


there are many things i'd like to say to you

by thefudge



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gradually Aged-up, Letters, Phone Calls & Telephones, Slow Burn, but also the mamas & the papas - california dreamin', ost: oasis - wonderwall (yes i'm that bitch)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2020-06-27 18:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19796554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefudge/pseuds/thefudge
Summary: Billy survives the Battle of Starcourt. He starts exchanging letters with Eleven. Things get complicated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> what, like you didn't expect this?
> 
> (so obviously this goes into some pretty non-canonic directions, but I hope you get a sense of the characters)
> 
> (rating may change? shhh)

Dear El, 

I’ve never written a letter, so I’m sorry if this sucks. I don’t know how else to contact you. Don’t know if I should, anyway. Mrs. Byers left this address. Hi, I’m Billy. You already know me, but you never actually met me because I was...well, I wasn’t myself. The first time we talked at Heather’s house I realized the creature inside me wanted you, wanted to do bad things to you, and I felt like shit, because yeah I’m a total dickhead, but even I don’t hurt little girls. Well, not anymore. I’m sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to. I should probably mind my language, but I think after everything you’ve been through this won’t offend you. Anyway, I wanted to say thank you. You brought me back when I thought I was a goner. Thanks for saying my mom was pretty. You’re pretty cool. I get why Max is missing you like crazy. Well, I don’t know what else to say. I hope you’re doing okay. Good luck with everything.

Billy 

Dear Billy,

Thank you for your letter. This is my first letter too. I was surprised you got in touch. You don’t have to thank me. You’re the one who almost died. You protected me from the beast. I should be thanking you, so...thank you. You did a really nice thing. Tell Max I miss her too. I hope you’re going to be a better person. Please watch over the rest of my friends if you can. And you can write to me again, if you like. 

P.S. I don’t mind the swearing. 

Eleven 

Dear El,

Here's me writing. I’m trying to become a better person, but it’s hard. I’m still angry about a lot of stuff, stuff you saw in my head. Also, I admit I like being a jackass. I like it when people are a little scared of me. Plus, I have to watch my back, don't I? By the way, can I ask about your powers or would that be crossing a line? Are you starting school soon? I’m trying to save money for college because that's what my old man wants, but I don’t think it’s gonna happen. I don’t think I want to go. Maybe I wanna be a fuckup forever. Don’t know why I’m telling you this. Sorry. They’re trying to rebuild the Mall, if you can believe it. I swear whatever happens I’m not getting a job there.

Your friends are doing okay, but they’re still upset over you leaving. That Wheeler kid is pretty broken up about it, even though he’s trying to look strong. You really did a number on him. Old me would say mad respect. 

Billy 

Dear Billy, 

I’m sad that Mike is not happy. I wish I could make them all happy. I want to visit soon, maybe take the bus on my own. Joyce said I should be home-schooled for a year because I have to catch up. Jonathan will teach me some stuff. I’m relieved. I don’t think I’ll like school very much. You should definitely not get a job at the Mall. I don’t know what to tell you about college. It sounds bad. You can be smart without college, right? 

You can ask about my powers, but the problem is I don’t seem to have them anymore. I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m kind of scared. Ever since the Mall fight I have been depleted. I keep practising though. 

And yes, I do like the feeling of scaring others, just a little. 

Eleven

Dear El,

Sorry to hear about your powers, that sucks. They have to return eventually, right? They’re a part of you, aren’t they? 

Yeah, college doesn’t make you that much smarter, but you get better jobs. I fixed my car, but now I have to sell it, which blows. In other news, I’m starting to get along with Lucas. Max doesn’t totally hate me anymore. Hell, I even shared a beer with Steve, the Hair. He’s working at the Blockbuster. I think I’ll have to get out of this town soon. Max has Mom and Dad and she can take care of herself. Better than I can, anyway. Was thinking of traveling cross-country, bumming for rides, working with my hands, see what the world’s like. Maybe I can get back to California. I miss the beach. 

Billy

Dear Billy,

I’ve never been to the beach. I’d like to go. Joyce says we’ll drive out to the coast when the weather’s nice, but even I know that a beach in Maine is not the same. I want it to be really warm, I want to get sunburned and I want to go under the waves and hold my breath until my lungs burn. I've been underwater many times but it was always awful. Maybe this would be different. 

Do you still know how to surf? Were you ever scared of the waves? Will you still write when you’re traveling?

Today I managed to move a soda can with my mind across the table. It wasn’t much but it was "something", as Joyce tells me. She wants me to call her Mom, but I don’t think I can do that yet. Do you miss your mom? Dumb question, I’m sure you do. I miss mine a lot, even though I never met her. She named me Jane. Don’t call me that, though. 

P.S. I miss Hopper the most. 

Eleven

Dear El,

Sorry I haven’t written in a while, been on the road. It’s kind of shitty. Jack Kerouac and all those other boneheads lied. There’s nothing hip or deep about it. My back hurts like hell, I feel twenty years older. Pretty sure I got gray hairs. One of my toenails actually fell off, it’s that fucking brutal. Sorry, that’s probably too gross. I’m a part-time contractor. I work on this construction site. I get to climb up scaffolds really high. Almost get nosebleeds. I can’t fucking wait to get to California. Right now I’m in Colorado and my ass is freezing. I do miss Mom a lot. I keep telling myself I’ll track her down, but I always end up feeling angry she didn’t try to contact me first. I totally get what you’re going through with Mrs. Byers. Dad’s new wife wanted me to call her Mom too. At least Joyce really cares for you. 

Hey, your powers are coming back, that’s great. I might start calling you Jane just to tease you.

P.S. Never afraid of the waves. The waves are afraid of me. 

Billy

Dear Billy,

Colorado sounds cool. It can’t be that bad. You’re having adventures! I’m stuck in the house doing trigonometry. I don’t really get it. I mean I do, but its purpose eludes me. That’s another word Jonathan taught me. He said it’s different from “prelude”. Yawn. The toenail does sound pretty yucky, I hope you get that fixed. I hope you get to California soon. Maybe you can send postcards. 

P.S. Do you still wear your hair long? 

Eleven (not Jane!) 

Dear El, 

I feel like an idiot. Postcards! Shit, I should’ve thought of that. I’m gonna send you a ton. I know it’s home-school, but you could skip class or two, you know. Although if you do that you might end up like me. Did you talk to Max recently? If not, you should give her a call. 

So you liked my long hair, huh? Sorry, had to go crewcut. Still got my earring, though.

Billy 

Billy,

You should have told me. I am very upset you didn’t. How long have you known? Maybe we shouldn’t write each other anymore.

Eleven

El,

Shit, I’m really sorry, but I didn’t feel it was my place to tell. It’s my little sister’s life. She always gets upset when I butt in. It’s still screwed up, I know, but this happens a lot with tight-knight groups. People get...incestuous. Had to double check the spelling. Listen, I’m really, really sorry. It’s okay if you don’t wanna write anymore. I’ll miss the letters. It’s like writing a diary. I used to do that when I was a kid. I’ll still send you some postcards. You can throw them out if you want.

Billy 

Dear Billy,

I’m still upset, but I’m getting over it. Will called Mike a dick, which was nice. He's on my side. Joyce said that it’s normal to be disappointed in love sometimes. She asked me if my heart is broken. I don’t know. I guess so. Today I made the mirror in the bathroom crack. But I don’t think my heart is cracked. I was thinking of Max and Mike kissing and that did the trick. I’m sorry, it’s not your fault. I still want to write. Please always be honest with me. I’d never throw out your postcards. 

Eleven 

Dear El,

I’m really glad you still want to write. These letters are sort of keeping me sane. I got an infection on my foot and had to go to a free clinic cuz I can’t afford anything else. I almost thought they’d have to amputate it. But if I survived those fucked-up alien things I can survive this. I’m recovering. I had to quit the contractor gig. I got a job as a cook’s helper at a diner. Weird thing is I almost kind of like it. I used to cook for myself when I was younger. Nothing fancy, just the usual. What do you like to eat? Maybe one day I can make it for you. 

I’m just really tired. Not even twenty and I’m really tired. 

It’s great to hear your powers are growing. Anger is always a good motivator. Still, I hope you can forgive Max someday, forgive both of them. They still care about you. Time fucks you over. It’s been over a year, can you believe it?

P.S. Honest. Got it. 

Billy 

Dear Billy,

I’m so sorry about your foot. I think I might be starting regular school soon. High school, to be exact. I really don’t want to, but I’m also kind of excited. I’m feeling better. Will let me play D&D with him. It’s really fun, though I don’t think you’d like it. It's too elaborate. That's a Jonathan word. My favorite thing to eat is waffles. They’re not hard to make. That’s why I like them. I’m sorry you feel tired. I wish I could telepathically give you a boost. Maybe I will very soon. I’m getting better every day. The way I see it, time is both an enemy and a friend. I know it’s been a while, but I wish Hop would come back to me. I wish I could make him come back. What are powers for if you can’t do that? 

Eleven 

Dear El, 

If horror movies taught me anything is you don’t wanna mess with resurrecting dead people. Sorry, gotta be blunt. You have to take care of yourself, okay? I know you miss him, but I saw you getting all those nosebleeds when we were fighting. Just be careful. 

There’s this song by Madonna that keeps playing on the jukebox, reminds me of you. Who’s that giiiiiirl? Cuz you’re mysterious and a little weird. Which I like. 

High school’s gonna be hard at first, but you’re gonna nail it. It’s all about image and reputation. You gotta look tough from the beginning, don’t let anyone mess with you. Send me a Polaroid of your first day. There’s a waffle-house down from where I live. I think you’d love it. I’m tired of Colorado, though. Been here too long. I’m thinking New Orleans. Letting my hair grow again. 

Billy

Dear Billy,

I love Madonna. Jonathan doesn’t like her all that much, but he’s a snob. He keeps pushing Depeche Mode on me. I’m attaching a Polaroid with this letter. I look so dumb. My first day was not so bad, but I got bored in the first five minutes. Some people laughed at my clothes, but I didn’t care. I called Max the other day and we had a nice conversation, if you can call it that. All I know about New Orleans is that it’s got a lot of swamps. I’m gonna get a book from the library and read about it. I’m obsessed with Emma Bull. She wrote this book about faeries, but it’s not for kids, it’s about dangerous creatures and rock singers and adult stuff. Will made fun of me for liking it, but he’s reading really lame stuff about old wizards guiding young men on a journey. Anyway, I hope you're okay. Maybe soon I could actually see you? Just to say hello.

Eleven 

Dear El, 

Fuck those snotty kids at school, your outfit rocked. Really liked your first-day look. It was badass. Like "I don't give a shit" badass. That Emma chick sounds cool too. Adult stuff, huh? Trying to remember what I was into when I was fifteen. I guess also “adult stuff”, hehe. Sorry. Will needs to get out more. Glad you talked to Max, she’s pretty stoked about it. New Orleans is humid as fuck, I mean I can barely get out of my jeans anymore. But the French Quarter is really pretty. Lots of pretty girls too. Are you saying you want to visit? Cuz I don’t know what Joyce would say about that. I’d love to have you, though. My life’s kind of a mess, but I’d make time.

Billy 

Dear Billy,

You don’t have to “make time”. I wouldn’t be visiting physically, duh. Joyce would kill me. I can find you telepathically. I could see you. I think you could see me too if I did it right. I haven’t tried it yet. That’s how I tracked you down when you were being possessed. So do you have a girlfriend now? 

Eleven 

Dear El,

I actually remember seeing you...back then in that plant. It was all a haze in my brain but it’s like you appeared out of thin air, like some kind of broadcast. It was spooky, but it was also kind of amazing. You could do that again? I don’t want you to get hurt though. But that’d be pretty cool. We gotta set a date because I don’t want you catching me in the shower or something. I’m not going steady with anyone right now, Miss Nosy. But yeah, I’ve sampled some New Orleans baked goods, wink. Sorry, that sounded wrong. Scratch, scratch. Joyce is definitely killing me. Let me know when you “drop by”. 

Billy 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh look, i took way too long to update this, what a shock!  
> i'm sorry i'm an update-slug. hope you like!

Dear Billy,

Let’s do it on Halloween. I think it’s supposed to be significant. Would eight PM work for you? I’m going to make a bridge between us. You might be able to see me, but you might not. It would help if you tried to empty your mind and relax. I hope I don’t hurt you. See you on the other side.

Eleven

She doesn’t receive a letter back this time, and she doesn’t know what that means. For a few days she worries Billy might’ve gotten in trouble, with the law or otherwise. But he promised he’s clean now, turned a new leaf and all. So maybe he just doesn’t want to do it. He doesn’t want to connect with her “on the other plane”. Few people do. It’s creepy and unsettling and you feel so _alone_ in that dark, liquid vacuum, no matter who’s there with you. It can be oddly beautiful too, but it mostly “sucks ass”, as Max once put it. 

El doesn’t begrudge him his desire to stay away. She just wishes he’d written back.

Halloween comes around and El doesn’t want to go trick or treating. Joyce asks her if she thinks she’s too old for it, if the kids at school will laugh. The kids at school think she’s a quiet menace anyway. No, she’s just not feeling up to it this year, she mumbles.

“What? But you go crazy over Halloween. It’s your favorite time of year, isn’t it?”

“Not anymore. Not since I was a ghost," she says, thinking of the white sheet she cut holes into, thinking of Hopper being afraid she would be exposed. 

Joyce seems to understand. She misses him too. She pulls El into an awkward hug before she can escape to her room. 

Will comes by and offers to play games, any game she wants.

El smiles and tells him that she can’t because she’s got her “monthlies” and she has to lie down. Poor, mortified Will almost trips on his way out of her room.

El can’t help a chuckle. Boys are such ninnies.

But she won’t think about boys tonight. She won’t think about Mike going out with Max. She’ll try not to summon memories of Hopper. And she’ll try not to think about Billy.

She falls asleep with the book in her lap, thinking about the sea and a little boy running towards the waves, unafraid. The little boy comes in and out of her dream, like the rabbit in that funny book she read a month ago, the one about the queen of hearts. The boy, like the rabbit, seems to jump in and out of tunnels…tunnels like open mouths that chew through space and time…

_El._

_El._

_El!_

El starts awake.

Her bed is a raft on a dark ocean. All around her is velvety dark matter, dead yet pulsing, liquid but not quite.

She tastes sea spray on her tongue.

“B-Billy?”

His voice echoes faintly in the black void, as if he were struggling to get it out.

_El…_

“Billy. Where are you?”

His voice again, muffled smothered, unable to form words. Coming from somewhere below.

El panics.

She has never felt this mirror-fear before, as if she were dealing not with another creature, but with another _her_.

El lowers her trembling feet into the dark water which seems to bubble and froth and hiss, as if reacting to an intruder.

He must be somewhere down here, trapped without understanding where he is, but how did he arrive here on his own -

The hand shoots up from the water before she has time to scream.

It grabs her foot before it touches the surface.

Fingers grip her ankle and tug. They crawl up her calf and yank, until she is dragged off the bed into the water and –

Joyce bursts open the door to the bedroom.

“El! What’s wrong? Why are you screaming like that?”

El feels warm tears tracking her cheeks like fingers. She doesn’t know why she’s crying. Joyce pulls her into a tight embrace.

“Oh honey, getting your power back is a nasty business, isn’t it?”

El nods into her chest.

But that’s not it. That’s not it at all.

That was Billy’s hand. She knows it.

How the hell was he there already? How did he –?

_How._

Dear El,

I’m such a shit. I forgot to post the last letter. I didn’t bail on you, I promise. I waited for you on Halloween. I emptied my mind and thought about you. I didn’t know what was supposed to happen and then…I think you _saw_ what happened. When I saw you (I think it was you), I tried to reach for you. I’m sorry if I scared you. You scared me too. I heard you scream. I don’t know how I got there. It was black and watery, like being stuck in a pool without a surface, but it didn’t feel like drowning. I don’t know if this makes any sense. Please write to me before I lose my mind.

Billy

El sits on the swings with the letter in her lap. She’s writing and rewriting replies in her head, but none is quite satisfactory. They have to talk directly. This could be bad. Anything out of the ordinary has the potential to be destructive. That’s what she’s learned about this fragile world. A girl from her History class sits on the swings next to her. Her name is Maggie. She’s relatively nice. Relatively, meaning that sometimes she’ll be in the mood to talk to El, sometimes not.

“Who’s that from, your secret admirer?” Maggie teases.

El shakes her head. “A friend.”

“Nobody writes letters anymore. I wish I got letters. He must be special.”

El bites her thumb.

 _Special_.

Yes, like her.

Maybe that’s it.

Dear Billy,

I’m sorry for the radio silence. You didn’t scare me. But I can’t write about this. We have to talk on the phone. Call the house, I’ll tell Joyce to let you through.

El

Joyce stands in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

“Billy Hargrove is on the phone for you?”

El swallows. “I told you he’d call.”

“No, you didn’t. What is this about, exactly? I thought you guys just wrote letters.”

“Um, it’s private.”

Joyce makes a face. “As long as you live under my roof, “private” is not gonna cut it.”

“It’s about my powers,” El mutters, feeling more embarrassed than if she’d confessed to something truly scandalous.

Joyce lifts both eyebrows. “Oh…but he…”

“Can help me with that, yes. I promise I’ll tell you more when I can.”

“All right, but he’s not a teenager anymore, he’s a grown man who shouldn't–”

El can’t handle hearing this lecture right now. She grabs the corded phone from Joyce’s hand and rushes to her room.

“Leave the door open!” Joyce yells after her.

El rolls her eyes. It’s not like she could close it anyway, given the cord. It feels like all the objects in this house -in every house really - are made to surround you, but also leave you vulnerable. Like portals that cannot be controlled. She shakes her head. 

She hopes her voice doesn’t squeak.

“H-Hi.”

“El. It’s good to hear you.”

His voice is like bacon and eggs crackling in the pan, like something thick and buttery, but eminently _good,_ familiar _._ He sounds old, but not jaded. He sounds like his lips are smiling as they form her name. 

“Same here.”

“How are you?” he asks, his voice going an octave lower, if possible.

“I’m – I don’t know. How are _you_?”

“I feel like I’m still dreaming. Did it really happen?”

El speaks quietly. “Yeah, I felt you. You reached out from the water and grabbed my leg.”

“ _Jesus_ , I’m sorry, I didn’t know what I was doing exactly –”

“Don’t be,” she rushes out. “Honestly, I…that’s not what scared me. What scared me is how you got there. I didn’t try to make the bridge. I was asleep. I don’t think I did it unconsciously. I'd know. So … _you_ must have done it.”

She can hear his heavy breathing on the other end.

“No. That’s – that’s not possible. I don't even know how any of this works.”

“Then how did you get there before me? Do you remember anything?”

“I don’t know, I was thinking of you…I was lying down on the bed just picturing your face…picturing talking to you, and I don’t know where I went because suddenly I was in this goddamn pool." He sounds disgruntled, like he's talking to a police offer, but she can hear the fear in his voice. 

El grips the receiver. “Billy. What if –”

“Don’t say it.”

“But what if…?”

“El, I know what you’re gonna say, so please don’t say it.”

“Okay.”

There’s a long, awkward silence in which both contemplate the same disturbing possibility. El can hear the TV in the living room. Will is laughing at whoever is pulling mugs on camera. The fact that life is still going on around her gives her comfort.

Billy releases a breath. His voice sounds bloodless when he speaks. “You think that thing is still inside me, don’t you?”

“N-no, not exactly. I mean, you are definitely yourself. But I think it left traces.”

“Traces? _Fuck_. Sorry. Fuck.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, El.”

“Hey, we’re not sure of anything.”

“I was supposed to die that night, El. Doctors said it was a miracle I survived. What if it’s not a miracle?”

El bit her thumb. “You can’t talk like that. You haven’t had…episodes, have you? Long stretches of time when you’re absent and you don’t know where you’ve been?”

“No, nothing like that. But shit, maybe it’s mutated.”

“It doesn’t work like that. At least, I don’t think so.”

“You an expert?”

“Kind of,” El replies defiantly.

“Sorry. I’m just…not equipped to handle this stuff. I’m not as strong as you.”

“That’s not true,” she says and she hopes he knows she means it.

Because maybe, maybe this isn't as bad as she thought. Maybe it just means he's ...like her. He always wanted to hear about her powers. What if - what if he's got them too? What if the Mind Flayer only amplified what was already there?

But she knows she'll spook him if she tells him that. Nobody likes being different, not really. 

“That word Jonathan made me learn…she mumbles. " _Irrevocable_. I think…I think some events mark us irrevocably, and we can’t go back to who we were. I think that's what's happening.”

Billy sighs into the phone. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Another silence falls between them.

Eventually, Billy speaks again. “It’s weird getting to talk to you. I feel like I got to know you after all those letters, but I don’t know…hearing your voice is…”

“Different,” she supplies with a small smile. “I know.”

“Yeah. Like I have this picture of you in my head, but I don’t know if it matches anymore.”

El feels a strange, nervous flutter in her stomach. “It matches.”

“Does it?”

He lets the question linger.

“Listen,” she says eventually, “we have to try it again.”

“What?”

“Finding each other in the Upside Down.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“It’s okay. This time, it’ll be intentional. I’ll draw the bridge and we’ll see what happens.”

Billy swallows. “What if we – what if _I_ lose control? It's not exactly a happy place.”

“We have to take that chance. Plus, I’ll be in charge of the channel. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

Billy chuckles and there’s something of the little boy in it. “You’ll keep me _safe_? I thought I was supposed to do that.”

El shakes her head. “Don’t you know? I’m the hero.”

And the way she says it, it sounds both tongue-in-cheek and absolutely serious.

Billy smiles. “Okay, kid. I’m in your hands.”

_I’m in your hands._

El likes the sound of that, likes the idea of him entirely vulnerable, entirely dependent on her.

She quickly erases the image.

"Okay. Let’s set a date.”

They go back and forth on the day and time. She makes sure to keep her voice barely above a whisper. She doesn't want Joyce to overhear. That's why, she argues, it should be a school day, when she's away from home and her well-meaning concern.

"She's still in charge of you, El. I don't know if you should hide it from her."

"I'll tell her, eventually. And _nobody_ is in charge of me." 

Billy whistles. She doesn't know how terrifying she sounds sometimes. It's kind of cool. "Yes ma'am." 

“I can find an empty classroom after classes are over.”

“And you're sure this is a good idea?”

“Yes.”

Billy hums. “Then it’s a date.”

And somehow, El feels very much her age when she thinks about an empty classroom and Billy Hargrove. 


End file.
